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What Lies in the Forests
The Senju clansmen gathered together, swords drawn, the vast mountains to their backs as they crept low to the ground. “''Scout ahead, look for where the Uchiha are camping. Do not confront them, I expect you back before dusk'',” Lord Tobirama's words rang in Kato's head. When Tobirama commanded something, it was best to comply without argument. Kato yearned to kill Uchiha, his sword freshly forged and virgin to any filthy blood. “I hear something,” Amema said. He was a large fellow, dressed in heavy clothes colored an arrangement of greens and browns. He called himself Amema of the Forest, strong and sturdy like a tree, and as spirited as Nature itself. Amema's infamous ax, which had lobbed off the heads of many Uchiha was drawn. “Get down.” The three huddled close to the forest floor, eyes and ears perked up. A ferret tittered by, gave them an acknowledgment, and scurried off. “Bloody rat.” Lastly there was Shinma Aburame, who Kato had only met a few hours before. His first impressions were nothing close to enjoyable. They had been at this for hours, circling the mountains and keeping their ears alert for the sound of any shinobi moving through the trees or traveling through the forests. The Uchiha were rumored to have been spotted up this way, yet Kato saw no signs of anyone having passed through the area in what looked like weeks. He prodded the dirt with his hands – he felt nothing. “We should head back,” Shinma growled. “That information was false.” Amema shook his head. “We head back by dusk, that is what Lord Tobirama said.” Shinma was not happy with that. “I don't trust him,” he said, which shocked Kato. “Hashirama keeps him by his side because he is his brother, but that man is not to be trusted. He may be on our side, but when I look at him, I see a man who should have been born on the Uchiha side. He speaks without emotion, without desire. Does he know what it's like to be Human?” “Says the bug whisperer,” Amema chuckled. He obviously was not as floored by the comments towards Tobirama as Kato was. Shinma shot him a look and Amema smiled back. “If Lord Tobirama wanted us to scout ahead, then it wasn't without good reason. The Uchiha are crafty. They are like slithering snakes that need to be chopped to bits,” he looked hungrily at his ax – and Kato knew that feeling. “Leave the eyes for last, for the plucking.” Kato smirked. He could see that nothing could sate Shinma now, so he decided it was best to ignore the Aburame for now, let him get over his frustrations. Tobirama had been dispatched by Lord Hashirama earlier in the month to command a squad of seventy men, which Kato was apart of. Nearly half were young boys, never having seen how real the battlefield could become. Sure they knew what an Uchiha looked like, what they were capable of, and what a dead man smelled like – but a field full of them... a field full of them still left Kato shaking to this day. But he was stronger then them. He was nearly eleven when he killed his first man with a hammer. The memory never left him. The stains of blood are hard to wash out, but the memories were easily repressed. Pushing them further and further down with better memories, and alcohol on numerous occasions. It kept Kato going, for now. Amema froze and raised a hand. “I smell... smoke.” Kato smelled it now too, and Shinma prodded at the ground as bugs reeled towards him. “A fire, two clicks that way. We should circle around and check it out.” “The woods are thicker here, and we could lose them if we do not go now. We'll head straight there, have your insects lead the way,” Amema ordered and Shinma grudgingly complied. They leaped, darting from branch to branch, avoiding the thinner more fragile ones and keeping off of the ground at all costs. The ground in these woods were filled with nothing but traps and deceptions – explosive tags, deep pits, poison gas rigs, you name it. Kato had seen what an explosive tag could do to a man's foot at close range, and he did not want to see it happen again. The smell of smoke grew thicker and then there was something else. Screaming, Kato thought. A man was screaming. His voice sounded distant at first but as they drew closer, it was unmistakeable. “Kill me,” he shouted. Flames danced across his blackening flesh, his eyes turning white as the flames dried them to nothing, his hair burning and falling from his ashen scalp and crumbling as it touched the ground. He writhed against a wooden pole, his skin crackling like a pig on a spit. Except he was not dead and stuffed with an apple – he was alive and feeling every second of the fires. Kato did not need to know who the man was to figure out where his allegiance lie, for a group of Uchiha stood around him laughing as he burned. They're burning a Senju, Kato felt his rage boiling. He wanted to lunge. To use his sword to gut them for the horrors they were committing. Why not fight him in combat, with honor and respect for the standard of war? Instead they captured him, likely tortured him, and finally they tied him to a pole and put him to the torch. Amema made a hand gesture towards Shinma, and the Aburame leaped into action, directing his insects to bring word to the Aburame clansmen stationed at their meeting point on the other side of the mountains. “''Do we sit and wait for reinforcements''?” Kato wondered. But it did not matter. “What do we have here?” An Uchiha stood behind them, a kunai pressed into Shima's back. “Yo, guys. We've got some spies over here. By the looks of it, one of them is a fine catch. Amema of the Forests, walking right up to our doors.” The others surrounded us, bored with the burning man who had finally succumbed to the fires. “''Amema has killed so many of their own. What will they do to us''?” Kato's body had frozen as he lied against the forest floor, eyes staring up at the Uchiha who were all glaring, their eyes all marked by the infamous Sharingan – except one. His were a shade of coal, and Kato couldn't help but take a double take on him. “''He was not laughing, or even watching, while the man burned'',” Kato remembered. Shinma winced as the Uchiha drew a line across his side with the tip of the kunai, cutting through fabric and drawing blood. “Burn his satchel,” he ordered, and one of them snatched in and tossed it into the flame. It burned abnormally bright when it dawned on Kato that his trained insects were all in there. Shinma had a look of hatred in his eyes, he wanted to kill them just as much as Kato did. “Do we even need him?” One of them shook their head. And like that, Shinma had a kunai the side of his throat, blood spattering out wildly. He clawed at the kunai and pulled it, out but could not repress his blood from draining out onto the forest floor. Shinma, who Kato had only met a couple of hours before, had died staring Kato right in the eyes. Kato knew what he was saying as he died, though Shinma did not speak. “''They'll kill you no matter what. Do what you have to do''.” The Uchiha laughed as one lifted up Shinma and carried him over to the flames, tossing his body onto the charred remains of the other Senju clansmen. Amema was still quiet, even as they turned their attention to Kato, though he saw the remorse in his leader's face. “You don't look that valuable either,” one of them said. “Kill him Mikami, he's not worth our time.” Kato looked at the man who killed Shinma, the man who was going to kill him. “''Mikami Uchiha, that is your name''.” Kato decided that he would kill this man, for Shinma, a man he never even knew. “What's your name?” Mikami asked. Kato looked at him hesitantly. “Kato,” he said quickly. “No last name?” “No, I'm a farmer's son.” Mikami nodded and knelt down. “You're running around with big shots here, you know that? Killing one of these bug lovers is quite an achievement, and Amema of the Forests, well... let's just say I'm going to earn quite the praise from the higher ups. But you, you're small game. I should let you run, spread word to your friends what I'm capable of.” Kato did not speak. He wasn't foolish. “What do you say, Amema of the Forests? Should I kill your comrade here? Make his farmer father proud that his son died for Hashirama's cause?” Mikami pressed his foot against Amema's chest and pressed down. Amema cursed. “Let the boy go. You have me.” “Kato,” Mikami addressed Kato once more. “Stand up.” And he stood, face to face with Mikami, his Sharingan a color of red that was thicker and darker then blood, yet it was brighter and more fluid then the fires that consumed Shinma and that other shinobi. He wanted to kill Mikami, yet he couldn't. His body was lost to him, his mind clouded with a thousand thoughts and one. He's manipulating me, Kato knew, but he could not do a single thing about it. “Amema,” Kato gasped. “Run, boy, run back home. Tell them how Amema of the Forests died. He died ingloriously, he died a failure, he let his own men die, and he groveled at the feet of Uchiha,” Amema's voice was weak and he looked to be on the verge of tears. “And tell Lord Tobirama... to leave out some sake for me.” Kato nodded, but his body was already moving on its own. A few miles out, her heard screaming once more. They had tied Amema down and put him to the torch and in his solitude, as he walked home, he cried.